Page 72 of Ghosted
“Kill the competition?” Jack asks flatly.
I nod, hating that he’s having to help me with this.No parent should be put in the position of solving their child’s murder.
We’re silent for a while, and then I ask, “Jack? How are you so calm about this?”
He laughs, short and grating. “Calm? I’m anything but. I’m so angry, I can hardly think straight. But my wife and my children need me, so I can’t go kill the fucker like I want to. Instead, I’m going to work with you, my P.I., and the police to get Richard and whoever he worked with put away and punished to the highest extent of the law. I can’t believe I promoted that bastard. At least firing him gave me a little relief,” he grumbles. He’s balled his hands into angry fists, and he looks like he’d punch a hole straight through Richard’s face if given the opportunity.
I reach out and place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m unbelievably angry, too. They took him from all of us. I know I didn’t know him for very long, but he means so much to me,” I break off, tears choking the rest.
“Time doesn’t always dictate emotions, Rae. I know I don’t look like a romantic, but I believe there’s a person out there for everyone. That some people are meant to be. Maybe Dean is your person. You have every right to grieve and be angry, too. I’m just sorry you and Dean didn’t get your time.” He surprises me by pulling me in for a fatherly hug, squeezing me tight around the shoulders.
“I wish he could have grown old with you,” Jack says into the crown of my hair. He presses a chaste kiss there and holds me while I fall apart. I feel Dean hug me from behind, and these two men hold me together while I let the grief for the life we could have had tear me apart at the seams.
THIRTY-NINE
I’m working on autopilot,restocking the store. They gave Richard nothing more than a slap on the wrist, as expected. He’s going to have to do community service, but he didn’t even lose his license to practice law. Jack’s P.I. confirmed our suspicion that Richard’s father is woven deep into the underbelly of the county. Too many backs scratched and palms greased to let his precious son go to jail for intended sexual assault, let alone murder. And the worst part is, at this rate, we may truly never know how he got away with it.
Dean even followed him home and watched over his shoulder for days at a time, scouting through his house when he was gone. Richard’s done nothing out of the ordinary, other than working out more than any person needs to and watching more porn than any pair of eyes can take. Clearly, his brush with the law scared him, because he’s hardly left his house other than to go to the gym. Unless he plots another murder, we pretty much have our hands tied.
A tingle at the back of my mind catches my attention and makes me set down the armful of crystals I was arranging. My hair stands on end and I turn, grateful that we haven’t opened yet. “Hello?” I call out, coaxing whoever it is forward. As they push closer, I realize their energy feels familiar. “Ivan, I know it’s you, you can stop hiding,” I say tiredly.
With a burst of energy that makes my ears pop, Ivan is suddenly looming in front of me.
I sigh. “You can stop with the dramatics. I’ve got too much going on right now. Would you like for me to help you move on, or did you just come to bother me?”
He scowls and says, “You made my nephew angry.”
I laugh derisively. “Yeah, because you had no part in that.”
“Hey,I’venever lied to him,” he states, thumbing his chest.
“Well, there are worse things than lying,” I say, going back to stocking our crystal display. Obsidian and Tiger’s Eye have been oddly popular lately. I arrange the crystals, taking pleasure in the menial task.
Ice-cold fingers wrap around my bicep and squeeze to the edge of pain, making me gasp. “Hey!” I exclaim, spinning around and shoving against his chest. He stumbles back, releasing me, eyes wide in shock. He doesn’t seem to like that the playing field is more even than he thought.
In a blink, a familiar, muscular back is in front of me, anger radiating off of him in waves. “Next time you put your hands on her, you’ll find yourself blasted so far into the black, you won’t be able to find your way back here,” Dean says through clenched teeth.
Ivan hacks a familiar smoker’s laugh/cough and says, “Whatever you say. Listen, we were just having a conversation.”He’s using a calm tone of voice, trying to smooth over his unprovoked actions.
“Yeah?” Dean asks. “Well then, you won’t mind if I’m here, right?”
Ivan raises his hands in surrender and says, “Not at all.” He turns his bloodshot eyes to me. “I want to talk to my nephew again. You’ll arrange that,” he orders imperiously.
I fold my arms over my chest and chew on my lip in thought. I know Misha wants this closure. He deserves it, even if this jackass doesn’t. “Okay. I’ll try. I need to talk to him first. If he doesn’t trust me, it won’t do either of you any good. Give me some time and I’ll call you if and when we’re ready,” I say reluctantly.
“Anddon’tcome anywhere near her until then,” Dean practically growls.
Ivan looks like he’s sucking on a sour lemon, but he nods once and then pops out of existence.
Before I can even process the movement, Dean is in front of me and dragging the V-neck of my oversized sweater down my arm, exposing it to the elbow. Red marks bloom over the pale skin on my upper bicep. Dean hisses in a breath and says darkly, “I’ll kill him.”
“He’s already dead,” I point out.
“I’ll kill him again,” Dean grits.
“So he can be double-dead?”
Dean mumbles something under his breath. Louder he says, “Why aren’t you freaking out?” He traces his fingers lightly over the livid skin, making me shiver.
